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Wil C. Fry IV


Seminole, OK, US

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I Saw Your Face


Wil C. Fry IV

I thought of you at the wilderness campsite
I saw your face in the dancing firelight
I fancied I could feel your warmth at my side
I dreamt you were there, beneath the cloud covered night
You weren't really there, but I felt you just the same
Upon my heart, anyone can clearly see your name
The smell of fresh soil, the dampness of the dew
The rushing river; none of these compete with you.
These are all real, real as can be
But none are as real as you seemed to me
The vision of you that I could see
I pray you'll always be with me
I pray that you'll never leave me
I need that vision of you to stay
I need to hear your voice every day
The sun filtering through the trees, a soft breeze blowing
I see evidence of a Creator, One who is all-knowing
From a hilltop, I can see for miles
across trees, fields, streams - I doze off for a while
Amidst this beauty, on God's green earth, yes, it's true
All I can think of at a time like this is you.

Native American Neverland


Wil C. Fry IV

Unprotected yet unmolested
Innocent and naive
Give me nothing give me something
It is too late to grieve

Flying airplanes and crackling airwaves
Roaring in my head
Twinkling lights and twisted lies
Are unraveling the thread

Ripped from Earth's breast and burning the nest
Left to stagger and die
Closing of eyes and clasping of hands
Still believing the lie